


Blood Gives Life And Blood Gives Death

by GoofyGoldenGirl



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Thor (Comics)
Genre: Adopted Children, Adultery, Baby, Birth, Cheating, Childbirth, Children, Difficult childbirth, Flashbacks, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Love, Minor Original Character(s), Motherhood, Pain, Past Miscarriage, Pregnancy, Prophecy, angela: asgard's assassin #2, asgard's most dysfunctional family, biological children, daughter - Freeform, fertility, marriage problems, mother - Freeform, some graphic description
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 08:44:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3168665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoofyGoldenGirl/pseuds/GoofyGoldenGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Blood gives life and blood gives death, Freyja thought as she lay on the birthing bed </em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood Gives Life And Blood Gives Death

Men could boast about blood as much as they'd like.

They could brag about how they charged at their enemies, swords out, shouting words instilled in them by their fathers and their fathers' fathers. How the dead scattered throughout the field; the blood running on the ground like a stream. How bones would be crushed into dust by mud caked boots and iron covered horse hooves. Oh they made a huge deal about blood. They made sure that their sons would be properly trained to become the warriors they were meant to be, to remember each victory and to hold grudges that were long cooled. And again and again, they would ride into battle, hoping to either be rewarded by blood or die drenched in it.

But men cowered at the mere mention of a woman's blood.

Freyja stifled a groan as a sharp pain washed over her once more. She clenched her fist. A servant gently supported her back as another removed the blood soaked sheets underneath. The midwife paced around the bed, wiping her hands with a rag. When new sheets were placed and Freyja was laid back down, the midwife resumed her position at the foot of the bed. 

This birth had gone on for four days and four nights. For the first two days during that long waiting period from when the water broke to the pains becoming unbearable, visitors rushed in and out, bringing gifts and expressing their joy at the arrival of an heir. As queen, she accepted with a smile and a nod, but on the inside she wanted to lash at them and order them out. But luckily that was already done when the real labor began. Odin was given the choice of staying, but he left, mentioning something about "women's work".

The coward. 

It had been a difficult pregnancy. The average one lasted for a year. This one had gone on for two. Freyja wasn't sure if it was because she had conceived at an older age or it was a part of the prophecy. Between the nausea, the fatigue, the back, stomach, groin pains, and insomnia, she wondered how much more suffering she could take. 

_Neither of her first two births had been this difficult. Painful, yes, but they had not dragged out this long. Balder was her firstborn and he was born two days after her water broke. In a way she missed it; she had comfort then. She had been in her old room at Vanaheim; a room smaller and cozier than this one. Her midwife was an old family friend had been present each of her mother's births and those of her older sister. Her four sisters were at her side the entire time. They took her hands and shoulders when she could not bear the pain and caressed them, whispered words to soothe and encourage her, wiped the sweat off her brow, and fed her broth when she tired. And when Balder was born all of them celebrated together; laughing and crying as Freyja held him for the first time._

_"What a beautiful baby!" They exclaimed. "The most beautiful baby I have ever set my eyes on!"_

_She only had a year with Balder until news of a prophecy that foretold his death came to her ears. And no matter the spells she cast, or healing ointments she gave him, Freyja knew that the child had to be raised away from her to be safe. He hadn't even been completely weaned yet, and he howled when she had to let him go. She wept the whole time. Odin was by her side, but watched on with a blank expression on his face. He never knew the child like she had. He had been her betrothed then, not her husband._

_As for Aldrif, she had been a newly wedded wife. A queen of Asgard. And royal births were to be attended by all in the court. And like this one, they gathered in her bedchamber until the contractions began. There was no one by her side. Servants rushed in and out, and the midwife used strange Asgardian techniques to hasten the birth. And when Aldrif emerged, with a head full of red curls just like the ones Freyja's mother had so long ago, she wept with joy._

_She was hopeful that they would stay together for all of time._

_Then the war with the Angels broke out._

_Freyja had sunk to the ground in the moments after Heven was vanished. She let out an anguished cry as her helmet touched the ground. Her vision was clouded by tears and her body shook. Her sobs turned into shrieks. She did not care that all of Asgard saw her in this state. Odin knelt by her side, a firm hand on her shoulder. But he did not scream nor cry. It was if his rage that he spent towards the Angels had exhausted him._

_They never talked about their lost children. Odin never mentioned them once. And whenever Freyja tried to reach out to him; for support or love, he shunned her. Every birthday passed, and every milestone she would have seen them achieve never came about. She lost herself in her grief. And as thousands of years passed she felt her body work against her. She started to age: her once beautiful blonde hair started to turn gray. Her face became wrinkled, her body lost strength. Such aging was unusual among the Vanir who only took on the signs of old age very late in life. Her courses became irregular and almost stopped altogether; a blow to any future chance of bearing children, and her confidence as a deity of fertility._

_It took years for her to finally be at peace and to reverse the damage done. By the time of the twenty-first century, she was back to her youthful self again. And the news that Aldrif was alive and Balder's acceptance into the royal family brought a happiness long denied to her._

More pain. It was the type that bubbled in her abdomen and dug in like the sharpest poisoned dagger which shot through her veins. Her muscles clenched, and she felt the urge to kick her legs about and scream. She dared not make any more sounds except for gasps. She was a warrior's queen and she could not be seen as weak. 

The midwife had a hand on Freyja's thigh. She glanced up at her wearily.

"My lady. I don't see the head yet," she informed her. "Give another push."

A new contraction came along. Freyja blinked, trying not to black out. Her eyes flickered open and shut. A slight sound passed her lips. One tear fell. 

_There had been other children. But not her own. She and Odin had fostered the orphan Tyr, and she did love him as she loved Balder, but she missed the connection that a mother had with a child from the womb. Odin's lust knew no bounds and when he bedded Gaea and bought the squalling baby to court, she threatened to leave him. Freyja didn't believe about the prophecy about Midgard to be true and thought that it was an excuse used to pacify her. For months she did not pay any attention to Thor nor Odin, not until one day when she heard the child crying. His bawling sounded too much like Balder's last cries and made Freyja's heart sink. So she picked him up from the cradle and rocked him back and forth in her arms until he fell asleep. She didn't think she'd grow to love him, but he became her favorite son. And of course there was the Joutun boy, but he was just another prize of war. He was not her son. He would never be her son._

_Freyja could have played at Odin's game. She could have taken a lover. But she did not. She was queen and queens could not be unfaithful._

_She almost did. It was during the stretch of time when she and Odin still tried to conceive an heir after Aldrif's death and she was still the most beautiful woman in Asgard. There was one man that tempted her. A youth; tall and handsome, with chestnut colored hair and dark gleaming eyes, his cheeks smooth and round. He was a soldier, but possessed the elegance that she admired in a man. Witty, romantic, skilled at the artistic pursuits just as he was at war. He sent her roses and poems of his love for her. And she accepted them, her heart aflutter, filled with desire that she had not felt in so long._

_Their moments were few and innocent. The brushing of hands against each other, dancing close together at balls, standing close to each other as they talked, how he gazed into her eyes, and always when he left, he'd kiss her hand._

_Soon, Odin declared war on a far off land and her love was whisked away from her._

_The last time she saw him was at dawn on the day before Odin and his forces departed. They met in the throne room and he pledged to love her forever. Then they embraced, and instead of her hand, he kissed her full on the lips. He kissed her so lovingly and so passionately that Freyja felt a spark run through the top of her head to the tip of her toes. And she stared at his departing figure with a grin on her face; her hand over her mouth like a girl who had just been kissed for the first time._

_A few months later, the army returned victorious. But it was at a cost. Many brave men had died, and her love had been one of them. Freyja locked herself in her chamber to grieve. Days passed. She did not eat. Did not sleep. She only cried. But it was not only tears that had been shed._

_She had been carrying Odin's child. It was so early that no announcement had been made to the rest of the court. The sorrow was too much for her body; and when she saw the blood that stained her undergarments, her grief intensified._

_It was then Odin came to her for the first time since he had arrived. He took one look at her:at her watery eyes, unkempt hair, gaunt face, the bloody white chemise she still wore, and left the room._

Blood gave life and blood gave death.

Men respected the blood that brought death but not the one that gave life. 

Why couldn't they realize it was the same thing?

Tears were streaming down Freyja's cheeks and mingled with the sweat that dripped down her forehead. Her face flushed a dark red. Her nightgown felt damp all over and she bled even more than before. No one bothered to tell her to remove the nightgown or to change the sheets again. Her body shook, her nails dug into her palms and she started to scream and thrash about. Two servants took hold of her hands. Another helped the midwife support the legs. Freyja still screamed, but her body had become still except for the muscles that pushed.

"My lady I can see the head!" The midwife shouted. 

Freyja glanced down. A rush of fear and excitement ran through her. It was almost over. The whole damned ordeal was nearly over.

Her body was tensing up. The midwife had placed her hands in-between Freyja's legs to guide the baby out. 

"The head's coming through! One more push!"

She had no time to brace herself.

Freyja's face turned purple as she let out one final, shrill scream. Her eyes squeezed tight, and lined with wrinkles. She could feel her skin stretch and tear as the baby moved out. It burned more than the fires of Hel.

There was a cry.

The midwife held up a squirming infant covered in blood. Wispy gold hairs covered the head. The eyes were closed.

"It's a girl! You have a girl!" She exclaimed.

Freyja held out her arms and her daughter was placed in them. She began to cry again.

"Hello there," her voice trembled. "Hello there little one."

She kissed the top of the head. The midwife cut the cord and took the baby to clean her. It took only a few minutes before she was returned to Freyja. The child opened her eyes; they were a dark blue, like Odin's. She stared up at her mother.

"Oh child," Freyja whispered. "I've waited for you for so long."

Her daughter made a cooing sound.

"We will never part my dear," Freyja promised her. She kissed her head once more. 

The baby closed her eyes and nestled against Freyja's bosom. The goddess watched her sleep until it also came upon her. She leaned back against the bed, the baby still in her arms, and dozed off.


End file.
